Angels and Demons
by violaqu33n
Summary: An angel is found on the dance floor. A ghost wanders through minds, leaving a trail of chaos. A monster runs loose through the town. A vampire strikes in the cold days of winter. Shikatema,NejiTen, NaruHina, SasuSaku, in order of chapters.
1. Monsters

Insert standard disclaimer here. Warning: You are now entering an emo filled zone. If you don't understand this metaphor, then please go grow some brain cells.

There is a monster on the loose. It comes from nowhere, stalking silently in the shadows, and one day, one day soon, it can extend a dusk-coated arm, and drag its victims from the place of the sunlight, to a place of no return, no second chances, where one wrong glance means everything.

_You don't come out from a monster's lair._

Monsters only have one victim. Lives are spent, and sometimes wasted, searching and seeking for the true victim. Some hunt on instinct, some find victims that are the easiest to catch, or the most difficult. It is a long and challenging hunt, but if there is ever the slightest glimmer of success, the demons cheer and roar with triumph. A lose comes hard and does not fade; monsters never forget their marks.

_And now she had been marked for eternity._

If she tries to fight, to push away the claws that drag her, it fights back. Not with steel or sharp claws, but with words that hold a promise and a trust that binds her, binds her, binds her, until they are the same being. Until she doesn't pull back in fear, but rushes forward and embraces these new feelings.

_Monsters like this never let go._

And she isn't alone. More monsters lurk, staking out their own targets, carefully marked and claimed by a series of twisted laws and codes. And if she sees one in the tiniest corner of her eye, they look away, because she is marked, and so they cannot touch her. It doesn't stop the callous looks, or the whistles through sharp fangs.

_It's an invasion of demons._

Only once did the invasion cease. The monster stampeded out, and the town seemed strange without their constant presence. Their soon to be victims exchanged glances on the streets. Something was missing. It was unsettling, the eerie quiet, without the constant threat of lurking demons.

_One demon lost all human traces and fled into the night._

When the monsters returned, the routine continued without end. Long looks that were only out of the corner of eyes became obvious and blatant. The stakes were high; losing a victim was out of the question. The meaning of monster was losing definition, and the victims, the eternally doomed, were growing bolder, stepping into shadows, meeting gazes, growing, everyday with confidence and strength.

_Things had to be controlled._

And without warning, another monster fell, permanently, succumbing to the icy talons of death. The other monsters mourned in their own way of silent grieving. The victim was lost without the beast that had become a daily part of life. A well kept secret is revealed. And it scares the others. The stakes have more than tripled. Those with a victim show no quarter and those that still hunt scramble to find the one they have searched so hard for.

_One bad hand can spell death, and a master bluff can make or break everything._

The monster that has marked her is different, yet accepted. They are all strange, but they stay close, as the numbers grow smaller. Those that have been marked no longer hang their heads; to have a mark is a sign of status. Slowly a change is happening.

_The line between willful and resistant is fading._

Some can't remember when they noticed that monsters had appeared from the darkness. And she is beginning to forget, because it

_He._

is becoming important, and has a meaning, not just a badge of pride. Years have past since she was staked out, and the features of monster that were always so carefully masked in darkness are being brought forward into the sunlight. She has plucked him from the shadows and will not let him return. Not without her.

_So much has changed since then._

And one day, he takes her back with him. Back into the dark realms of silent shadows and echoing sighs. She sits, timid and nervous, as his friends and family watch her. She can't look them in the eye, even though he sits far too comfortably next to her, almost enjoying the sick spectacle. She bitches him out for it later as they amble down the street, a significant distance between them. He walks closer to the trees, trying to slip under the treetops were there is shade and only dark light. He stops suddenly, and she hears his footsteps break off without warning.

_He has fallen behind and she stops to grab him, before he falls back to his own world._

She cocks her head at him, and her eyebrows furrow together, not in anger, but calm confusion that say, "Come on! I'm right here, so keep going!" He looks down at his feet, and her annoyance grows, because something is wrong with him, and he's hiding it and keeping her in the dark.

_The shadows can't hold her forever, because there must always be sunshine._

And she walks back to him, and gives him a tiny shove, not to be mean, but to make sure that things are alright with him, and that he can pull through, can still be pulled from out of the darkness. And he gives her the tiniest smile imaginable, just to be reassuring, just so she knows that he hasn't fallen into the pit yet.

_But everyone walks so close to the edge_. _And as different as he is from everyone else, he can't help drawing close to it. Even when there is so much to lose._

So she just keeps him close to her, but still with a distance, because there are those that will say he is still a monster, even as tame as he is. But she can keep him safe like no one else, keep him safe on their missions together, and push him away from the ANBU that so desperately hunts him, a new monster on the horizon, no mercy or release.

But the monsters are a careful and patient race. They may be impulsive, but when things matter, they take time and care to make sure they are done with flawless perfection. And he has waited longer than any of them. Seven years since the day she was marked, and now comes the deathblow, one unusually warm night.

They walk together on the bridge. They aren't totally alone, but the nearest people are back at the village and they left that a few miles back. He offers her his jacket and she snuggles down, ignoring her elders' voices that she shouldn't be alone with a monster, a demon.

_For just one precious moment, all those voices of the past and present are silent. All that remains is the future._

With tentative, oddly warm fingers, he slips his hand into hers. She doesn't pull away, and he begins drifting closer and closer to her side, while she pretends not to notice. It's not frenzied or hasty, but it's the beginning of a spark that has waited for nearly a decade and at the moment, it's perfect. She tugs his hand and pulls him to the ground, attacking his hair, and squealing when he discovers she's ticklish. After the game is over, five elastics lay snapped on the ground, and she leans comfortably on his chest.

"Temari…" His breath tickles her ear and very gently, she nips the side of his face, and reclines even more into his chest. He's no monster; never was, never will be, not while she's there. She punches him, as sleep starts to take over. Darkness surrounds her, but his arms are stronger than any shield, and the true monsters can't touch them.

"Temari, do you believe in monsters?"

"Shut up, Shika."


	2. Vampires

Disclaimer: This is one is the real end of the Angels and Demons. I was Googling monsters and stuff you might find under your bed. And it hit me like a snowball. But less cold and slushy. Now I'm just rambling… This one has to be the best, cuz I always go out with a bang. I find the ending to be quite a little twist that I didn't even think of in the original idea for the story. Don't own Naruto!

The sun glints bright and cheerful on the new winter snow, and the ground gleams white and pearly. The frozen beauty is perfect and serene; no one is moving for miles.

_Someone, something is disturbed from a long sleep._

A shaft of light breaks through the trees and shines cold sunshine down on the frozen earth, and the people smile, relieved to have escaped the winter's first storm. Children run on the ice slicked streets, falling hard and bouncing back up.

One girl is unfazed by the new happiness of the season and marches purposefully towards the darkest house in the village, even though its tall towers are constantly bathed in sunlight. Not a soul lives in the house. Not a real soul anyways.

_The vampires stir and grumble. The light is slicing through their skin, warming flesh that has been cold since before the sun was born._

Once, a girl came stumbling out of the house, stuttering and terrified that those inside its ominous doors might pull her back. She never returned, cutting off all ties to the house of the eternally damned. But everyone knows where she can from, and why she looks so pale, color drained from her skin and eyes. Only her hair remained unaffected by the sick rites of the undead, shimmering and lustrous.

But this isn't about the miraculous escape, it's about diving in the unknown and not being swallowed alive or dead. So one brave girl walks on towards the house of doom, and bangs on the front door that rarely sees anyone trying to come inside.

_Pale faces and hungry eyes are the only objects that are visible. She is not, cannot be afraid of them, unless she wishes to die. To fear is to lose._

One particular face and pair of eyes catches her own freckled face and she jerks her head towards the outside world. He turns to the others and in the way only they understand, he sends a message. _"I'm going out. You cannot stop me, but I will come back."_

She doesn't comprehend their idiosyncratic words, and he is glad, because revealing the darker side of the dark would scare away any sane human. And he isn't so sure she would run screaming after all these years of tolerating his undead presence. Maybe she's insane. Maybe he's insane. Maybe he should just stop thinking before he loses everything that they both have worked so hard for.

They reach a clearing, far away from civilization and secluded. He feels the heat off her body increase as she prepares to begin the dance, the dangerous tango that is the only way they might ever come in physical contact with each other.

_They don't touch because her warmth burns, and the icy aura radiating off him is almost overpowering. Almost._

He spins and twirls towards her, and it's beautiful, so much so that she wants to sit and watch. But at beautiful as it may be, it's deadly and she flips back again and again, until he stops moving and it's time for her to start moving.

And she does, twisting screaming steel and iron in a deadly wave of power. This isn't part of the dance they do together, this is just her and the truest friends she has, and this is her dancing.

She spins and spins, and he sits back, hidden, and watches from a safe distance. She's been getting better and better, twirling tighter and faster, until he hears a faint slash in the air, and the dull slam of a knife speeds towards him, and it lands precariously close, the tip of the blade is only two centimeters away from his head, actually snagging on some of his black hair.

And the faintest hint of a smile flickers around lips that haven't truly laughed in years. It's time for the true dance to begin.

And he spins perfectly in sync with her, even though knives and shuriken speed towards him like raindrops. They move closer and closer to each other, steel clashing against chakra, until the sharp points of her weapons dull and he has no energy. All they can do is sit, pant, and just be there for each other. That's what they do. That's what they have always done.

_Just moving in for the kiss. Or is it the kill?_

Against this frozen tree trunk, no sound, no people, other than a heartless, apathetic boy, and a girl that is too caught in a web of cold death to even see it, time stands still. Very, very slowly, his arm moves towards her shoulders. Very, very slowly, she tilts her head to look at him, with surprise, because he just broke all the rules.

Very, very slowly, they kiss, with no bells, no mystic fairy dust floating through the air. Just cold lips pressed to warm ones that smell like strawberries and cream, and bodies begin to feel corporeal, spirits floating into the steam made from what seems to be just one mouth. Very, very gently, she moves away from his lips and trails her fingers and mouth downwards towards his neck and traces the firm line of his jaw.

As she reaches the bob in his neck that shows just how fast his breathing is, sharp, sharp fangs pop out, directly above the incisors. He grins truly now, as the faint sound of new teeth being revealed to the light. They have become the same sort of monster, yet different. She is the same, the same girl with the same skin, the same hair and face, the same eyes. Why is she like him, but so, so unfamiliar?

It doesn't bother either of them. It was going to happen eventually, and the blood trickling down his throat warms both of them.


	3. Demons

Disclaimer: I was watching an AMV of Into the Night, and I got inspired. Hope no one is too OOC. This isn't my normal happy style, but it needed to be done. Every author needs an emo story. Italics are the story underneath. You decide who the angel is.

_In the place of all things beautiful and good, the angels were enjoying their eternal lives, playing games and acting like happy children._

Music filled the dingy night club, as dancers swung round and round on poles, lithe bodies sweaty and shimmering. The music pumped from the stereos and the walls hummed with the bodies grinding and pressing against them. Girls danced with girls, primitive and beautiful, while some danced with boys, lustful and intense.

_In the endless hours of nightmares, the punished growled and snarled, cursing those not among them. Those that could fly freely, those that could soar to new heights forever._

At the stroke of midnight, the skies opened and water pounded the pavement. No one in the crammed building seemed to care about getting home. Tonight was a night to live.

_In heaven, the angels sang and laughed. Only one looked down on those that had fallen, those that had lost their wings. On the fallen._

But one lone soul seemed to be determined to ignore the blood stirring beat, and sat at the bar, shot glass in hand. His eyes were slightly unfocused, but he was sober enough to think and speak in coherent sentences. Occasionally, a dark haired boy would break through the crowd and tap him on the shoulder. He would shake his dark head in a firm no, and turn back to the corner.

_No one could slip out of those gates of Hell, no one could join those that were free. _

Out of the corner of one bright eye, a single dancer singled him out, and danced for the boy, the man, sitting alone. Her hair, which had grown long and thick, was down around her hips, and clung to her sweat soaked body like a curtain. She jumped up on her pole, and twirled down seductively, bucking her hips. The men around her cheered and waved bills. She snatched up them all and stuck them firmly in her boot, then changed her mind, and pushed them into her lacy bra followed by a firm squeeze.

The man, _her_ man, did not noticed how one dancer, that was just another face in the hordes of people, became a sudden star. She danced more boldly, more openly teasing then ever before. Girls jumped on to the platform with her, and danced along, as whistles, catcalls, and more money then ever filled the air.

_A lone angel spirals down the dark hallway. It isn't forbidden, but no one in their right mind would tread there. So she has come._

The man at the counter signaled for another shot. The dancer's carefully lined eyes glistened with a new light of mischief, and she beckoned over to one of her friends on the floor, and pointed to the man drinking by his lonesome. Her friend danced and squirmed through the crowd, slapping off wandering hands and mouths. She tapped the brooding man on the shoulder and pointed back at the dancer, who began dancing still more erotically. She clambered to the very top of the pole and bumped her way down, splitting her teasing smile in half, and hiding the open crotch of her lacey panties. The man raised an eyebrow and wordlessly followed the girl towards the dancer.

_One angel descended to the lowest circle of hell and looked at all the lost souls._

The twirling dancer grinned and moved harder and faster to the increasing beat of the music. The DJ, an old roommate, had too noticed the dancer working for the attention of the lonely man at the bar, and pushed the music to the breaking point. It seemed that the club would explode in itself.

The man looked up at the spinning girl, the smiling face, and the sparse clothing. She extended a hand and he

_A monster of the underworld finds an angel in the darkest pit of hell._

took her hand, and she pulled him onto the stage. And he looked out at the dark room, full of people and life, of the need to feel human and joyous. He looked down at the glaring men, the jealous ones, and pulled the dancer onto the dance floor, inviting her to step into the fray of bodies.

_The demon extends one damned hand, and the angel lifts her delicate arm, and accepts._

The dancer, who just became a woman, jumped down onto the floor with the man, and he pulls her back into his chest. Other men lean into her slender hips, but he pushes them away with an angry snarl of a beast. She moves one graceful arm up, up his strong chest, up to the tips of his dark hair, and tentatively drapes it around his neck. He almost loses control at her touch, almost shivers from the feeling of cold fire.

_The angel and her monster dance in a circle, swaying as the foulest and the most broken look on. They try to understand, but no words can form in anyone's mind, as the two dancers wind tighter and tighter, becoming one._

The man wraps two hands around her flat stomach, and traces the hard lines with his fingertips. He looks carefully at her face, and sees that her eyes have closed and she can only sway to the pressing music that binds all of the souls in the room together.

_The other beasts of hell jeer and howl angrily that this is not the world of angels; it is theirs and theirs alone. The monster and angel retreat to the stairway from which they had met. They must part, for angels cannot stay forever, and the monster with a heart of gold cannot pass through the threshold to heaven._

He begins to move in sync with her, something new, and he feels a speck of uncertainty. But she is there and she won't let him fall, because she can catch him, pull him up so he can soar. They rock with each other, not following the music, just swaying. And she startles him and turns around so his face is only inches away. And she opens her eyes, and he sees how they catch the flickering light.

_The demon of hell traces the angel's face of smooth perfection, and feeling rush into the heart he does not possess. The angel smiles, and whispers a promise to return, one day soon, when they can dance and dance. They can meet at the staircase, and they will wait for each other to return. Because that is all they can do._

And as the DJ announces this will be the last song for the night, she leans close to him, and he tries not to notice how perfectly the bulge of her collarbone fits in the hollow at the base of his neck. And those gleaming arms drop down slowly, tracing his dark shirt like a raging stream subdued. Her breath tickles in the smooth shell of his ear, and for just a moment

_because that is all that they have_

he can't breathe, can't think, can't remember why this stranger is tight in his arms. And then the moment

_their moment_

passes and it comes back when she whispers, "My name is Hinata."


	4. Ghosts

Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto. First real SasuSaku!! Feel the angst!!! WAGHWGHHH!!

She can't see him. Can't truly see that he is there, that he has always been there, and always will be, even when he's forty, five miles away. Anytime, anyplace, he is with her and she doesn't know it.

Everyone else, it seems, accepts this unspoken message as law, and maybe that's why her father has never had any trouble beating away boys, like Ino's father does. They respect the secret bond between the ghost of a man and the only one he has distinguished as valuable.

Some had once tried to break the bond that binds them, and he showed no mercy. Quick, biting words broke down any weak efforts to steal what he held so close to the heart that did not beat. Because ghosts don't care

_Can't care_

about those they have left behind, and he is far too high in the twisted social ladder of the nether realms to lag behind for one that can never follow him to the new place he calls home.

And so the years pass. Girls, women, grow and change from children to kunoichi, a specialized brand of deadliness. She falls into their ranks easily, another weapon hiding under porcelain skin. She pushes and pushes until she has earned the reputation she holds today as one of the very top, the very best, instead of simply the very best in bed. She is shaped and molded by teachers, mothers, friends, until she is a perfect model, a girl at the peak of life.

_And each night she wonders, "Why am I so alone?"_

She still has not learned of the hidden chains that holds them fast, and her eyes, trained to be eagle sharp for her many missions, still cannot pinpoint the one that is behind her day and night.

And one day, without warning, she sees him. Tall, dark, he scares her. The tiny, almost invisible, involuntary shudder triggers a smirk, because her eyes have been forced open, and she is afraid of what she sees. He likes it, relishes the next time they meet, so he can force another spark of fear into those blind, all seeing eyes.

It takes three years of carefully maneuvering superiors into a perfect position, one that came for deals under the table, trust broken, and a secret trail of bodies, until he is sure where she will be and he can be there at the same time. And when he finds her, the situation is better than he could have hoped for.

_But he stopped having hope a long, long time ago._

She is pinned back against a tree, five larger shinobi slowly circling towards her blood streaked body. They aren't anywhere close to her skill level, but the numbers give them an advantage, and they press it to the limit. He appears the moment it seems she will finally die. A quick fury of hand seals, five simultaneous slams as bodies hit the cold earth, and he stands before her, a cold smile dancing around lips that haven't laughed in years.

Child like eyes, the only visible sign left untouched by years of harshness and death, widen at the sight of the most elusive of any ghost standing before her. It doesn't look real, it doesn't feel real, but she is real, the blood on her shirt is definitely real, but the look of annoyance in his dark eyes seems to be surreal when she flinches away from his cold, cold hand against her cheek. She shivers from his slightest touch. Why is he so cold?

_He hasn't felt a warm touch, the feel of skin to skin, in years. Yet why is she the one to shy away?_

He ignores the way she can't meet his gazes and the way her eyes flirt from his interrogating face to the ground, and takes another step forwards, further pinning her against the rough bark of the tree. She pulls out a kunai, ready to stop him, ready to fight away this sick ghost, this abomination, that she never truly knew or loved.

_He is the ghost; she is alive inside. Why can he still see right through her, while he is such a mystery hidden in the shadows?_

The bark scratching into her shirt is nothing compared to the way his lips press against hers. It isn't the first kiss she fantasized at sleepovers and in daydreams. There are no singing angels, no fireworks or bells. Just rough lips and hands, pale flickers of moonlight breaking through the dark leaves, and a feeling of euphoria. There is no turning back.

_The last checkpoint was miles ago. The last traces of normality faded into darkness, and her eyes have adjusted, maybe forever._

Something, and she doesn't know what it is or where it came from, but it flickers to life, and she pushes back and rises to the challenge he has presented. His hands skim over never before seen skin, and the most primal urges inside of them both howl with the raw thrill and the moment of pent-up feelings finally surfacing.

His mouth and lizard tongue drops lower and lower, and for a moment, all time and breathing stops, only to be resumed faster, harder, more desperate, and the silent woods echo with the sounds of identical moans.

By now, she's stripped off his shirt and pants, and he has done away with her flimsy shirt and tight black shorts. He wants to bite off the annoying clasp on the front of her plain white bra, but she beats him to the punch and pulls it off in one fluid motion, along with her panties. And he grins what could only be the feral grin of a wild cat, and tears off his boxers.

Insert implied sex scene here.

She lies back on his chest, and he plays with her pink hair, and she hopes, prays to any god that has ever been, that they can stay like this for just one moment longer. And for moment after moment they do, and the tears of pain she once felt are nothing compared to the joy in her broken heart. And as she rolls off him, tracing that flawless skin, she feels a quick squeeze on her hand. And as she looks back to the only man she has ever truly loved, he fades away, like the faintest echo of a dream.

_There's no such thing as ghosts._

And she screams, oh god the screaming, and she kicks and claws the ground begging for him to come back to her, to return for just one more minute so she can see those black eyes or gaze upon that perfect body. But the gods and the earth cannot grant her this one wish, and she beats and scratches the tree and earth until warm hands grab tightly to her shoulder and calm her back to sanity.

And she looks up, expecting to see the only man that could ever calm her down with one quick touch. But no hard, icy face stares back. Only the concerned worried expression of Naruto and Kakashi, and she breaks into tears once more. Naruto pulls her into a comforting embrace and strokes her hair, like she was still a little girl.

"Shhhh, it's ok, it's ok, we're here, we've got you." And she fights away from him because he doesn't understand that he can't fix what's wrong with sweet words or false promises. He stares reassuringly into her big, tear filled green eyes and says the words she wants to believe are a lie.

"It's okay; you were just having a nightmare." And she slaps him harder than ever before because he's lying, lying, lying, because her feelings can't be just a dream.

And she screams into the night, at both of them, "It wasn't a nightmare! It wasn't a dream and it wasn't a lie! It was a ghost, I swear, it was a ghost!"


End file.
